


atop his throne

by wolfchann



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Injury Recovery, M/M, Marking, Minor Injuries, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, but just from the game, but not by much just in the way felix acts over dimitri, there's a tiny bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchann/pseuds/wolfchann
Summary: Dimitri gives no protest. He barely puts up any fight to what Felix is doing, and Felix wonders if it’s simply due to his lack of physical touch and affection over the past years, or if it’s because Dimitriwantsit, or if it’s because he thinks fighting against Felix will amount to nothing, or if -- Felix is thinking too hard about it.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	atop his throne

**Author's Note:**

> there is simply no explanation for this. the scene was stuck in my mind and now, here's 2k pwp dimilix. yahoo.

“You’re an idiot.”

Felix’s words come out with his breaths, riding on the pants that come from his lips. His mouth hovers over Dimitri’s, breathing intermingling together. Their breathing is uneven, frantic, much like the rest of their actions. Dimitri’s breathing is slightly pained, his chest heaving up and down heavily, the bandages over his chest tinted a vague red. He’s injured, because of course he is. He hasn’t given himself a care in the world, and Felix knows this.

He knows Dimitri doesn’t care about himself, doesn’t care if he ends up as just another body on the battlefield. Perhaps Felix hasn’t been around for the five years they were parted to know exactly what Dimitri went through, but he knows enough now that they’ve been thrust back together. Everything surrounding the former prince felt like a whirlwind, felt like there was nothing that they could do but watch Dimitri descend into madness.

Felix could have done that. He should have done that, really. However his former (although, returning) affections for the man caused him to intervene. After their professor back did wonders for Dimitr’s sanity, but still, the man was no longer the same. He would never admit it aloud, not that he would ever need to do so in the first place, but seeing Dimitri in such a state hurt his heart more than words could ever describe.

“Such,” Felix hisses the word out, his hands reaching around to grab ahold of Dimitri’s coat, gripping for life, “a _fucking_ idiot.” His hips buck forward with his words, his body situated in the prince’s lap.

A groan is what leaves Dimitri’s lips, his one visible eye fluttering from the way Felix’s hips are pushing into his. Dimitri’s hands slide up the back of Felix’s legs, rough palms against the backs of his thighs and fingers gripping hard enough that there surely will be bruises. Felix doesn’t mind the idea.

Felix pulls away from Dimitri’s mouth, deep red meeting scorching blue as he pushes Dimitri’s body away. It’s slightly rougher than he had intended, but as long as Dimitri didn’t wince, all was good. And Dimitri didn’t.

Dimitri’s back lands against the headboard of the head with a slight _thud_ , his head falling back against the wood, blond strands of messy, unwashed hair spilling over his shoulders. His bangs are covering most of his forehead and eyes, the eyepatch hidden under it. Felix takes a moment to stare, visibly drawn in by Dimitri’s wounded eye. No one quite knows how he ended up with the injury, but no one has pressed on the matter, afraid to upset the stupid man even further.

Felix reaches out and pushes Dimitri’s bangs back, slow, careful. Dimitri’s head moves with the motion, leaning further back into the headboard, before Felix moves his hand down and rests it on his cheek. His thumb strokes the eyepatch, touch barely there, his eyes watching Dimitri’s every move and reaction. Dimitri’s eye doesn’t open, nor does he make any movement to stop Felix. Instead, Dimitri seems to welcome it. His mouth hangs slightly open, his hands still present on Felix’s thighs as Felix sits atop his throne.

The swordsman drags his thumb down, over the curve of Dimitri’s cheek and to the dip of the corner of his lips. He drags it further against Dimitri’s lip, before hooking it against his bottom lip and tugging it down. Finally, Dimitri’s eye flutters open, and he already looks a mess. Felix feels pride welling up inside of him, but he’ll have to save that for another time. Right now, all he wants to do is remind Dimitri that _he’s here_ and that he shouldn’t be such a _stupid fucking idiot boar_. Felix leans over him and presses their mouths together again, thumb slipping away as his own tongue slips into Dimitri’s mouth, claiming it.

Dimitri gives no protest. He barely puts up any fight to what Felix is doing, and Felix wonders if it’s simply due to his lack of physical touch and affection over the past years, or if it’s because Dimitri _wants_ it, or if it’s because he thinks fighting against Felix will amount to nothing, or if -- Felix is thinking too hard about it. He hadn’t even noticed that Dimitri began rutting up against his thigh, the press of Dimitri’s hard erection against it unmistakable now as Felix drowns in Dimitri’s touch.

Felix’s breath hitches as his body surges forward, grinding hard into Dimitri’s lap. He feels hot, too hot, and he knows that he should be getting undressed right now. Instead, his hands fly up and press against Dimitri’s bandaged, bloodied chest. His fingers press against them, every so lightly, and Dimitri’s body quivers. Felix isn’t sure if it’s from the pain or pleasure, but the noise Dimitri makes is so _good_.

He knows that Dimitri would never be this way with anyone, not even with their own professor. Something about that makes Felix feel so… powerful, so alive. He preens at the feeling, his body arching into Dimitri’s as his hands finally move away from the prince’s injuries. It was those damned things that led them to be in this situation in the first place. If Dimitri had just been more _careful_ , they wouldn’t be here right now. Perhaps Felix should reevaluate his reasoning.

At long last, Felix pushes the coat from Dimitri’s shoulders, letting it flutter to the bed under him. He moves to make quick work of his own shirt, hands swiftly undoing the buttons and letting the article of clothing slide to the floor. He doesn’t fully undress them, though. He keeps their pants on, running his hands over Dimitri’s flexing thighs, watching the prince squirm under his touch.

“Do you understand,” Felix starts, low and hungry and exasperated, “just how stupid you are?”

Dimitri seems to give a small nod. It makes the corner of Felix’s mouth twitch up.

“Good.”

With swift movements, much like the way he fights, Felix is tugging open Dimitri’s pants, as well as his own. He situates himself back into Dimitri’s lap once he’s finished pulling them down and off, letting his fingers curl around Dimitri’s cock. Dimitri throws his head back, a strangled gasp leaving him as he feels Felix’s rough fingers working up and down his cock. Felix watches with dark eyes, fixated on the way Dimitri moans and writhes under his simple touch. Felix likes this control, likes the way that Dimitri is only _his_ right now.

Felix adjusts himself in the prince’s lap, shifting to be sitting up on his knees, encasing Dimitri’s thighs with them. He leans his head down a bit and spits against his hand, using it as a source of lube for their to-come activity. He knew it’d hurt more than usual, but at this point, he could really care less. Besides, it couldn’t hurt worse than the slash across the chest that Dimitri received earlier that day.

Thoughts of the injury irks Felix once more, his face twisting up in a fix of emotions as he twists his wrist, squeezing Dimitri’s cock between his fingers, ripping a moan from the prince’s throat. Felix leans his head in and presses his mouth against Dimitri’s throat, licking and sucking at the skin. It tastes of sweat and vaguely of blood, fitting for the way Dimitri’s been living his life. He bites down at the juncture between his neck and collarbone, earning another loud moan from the prince under him.

Felix sighs into his neck, pushing his hips forward a bit as he positions Dimitri beneath him. He hasn’t prepped himself much, not since a few hours ago, but Felix knows he’ll be able to take it. It’s not the first time they’ve done it like this; raw, intense, fervent. Felix knows he’ll be sore come morning, but that’s the least of his worries right now.

Slowly, he sinks himself down onto Dimitri’s cock. The initial push of it makes him sigh heavily, his head lolling back between his shoulders as he feels Dimitri’s hands grabbing at his hips. The blonde digs his fingers into Felix’s skin, bruising it deeply as Felix pushes his hips further down. There’s only so much pain before it turns into pleasure, Felix shivering under Dimitri’s grip, his hips stuttering to a stop as Dimitri fills him up.

Felix’s hands slide up Dimitri’s body, fingers curling against his jaws and pulling his head forward, slotting their lips together as Felix begins to slowly circle his hips. Their moans are drowned in the kiss, Felix swallowing the noises Dimitri makes with earnest, fingers coming around to tangle into Dimitri’s hair. As he pulls away, Felix lifts his hips up, nearly pulling all the way off Dimitri’s cock, before pushing back down again.

He starts a rhythm then, moving his hips up and down as he rides Dimitri, loving the way Dimitri’s cock feels inside of him. Every now and then he squeezes around his cock, causing Dimitri’s moans to become louder, higher in pitch. Dimitri’s eye flutters often, threatening to close fully, before Felix does this _thing_ with his hips that forces him to keep it open. Felix watches him, lips parted, panting out softly as one hand slides down carefully resting around Dimitri’s throat.

Dimitri’s neck arches into the touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down a loud moan, hips twitching under Felix’s weight. Felix quickens his pace, bouncing in Dimitri’s lap, grinding his ass into the blonde’s lap every other bounce or so. He shifts his hips slightly, trying to get a better angle, before Dimitri is suddenly sitting up, feet planted against the bed as he grabs the undersides of Felix’s thighs. Felix lets out a gasp, taken aback by Dimitri’s sudden control of the situation, but he can’t admit that he doesn’t like it. He loves it.

Dimitri begins thrusting up into Felix then, leaning forward and pressing desperate kisses along Felix’s throat and shoulders. He bites and sucks, very surely creating a plethora of bruises along Felix’s pale skin. The prince is needy, wanting; the faster he thrusts, the messier they become. Felix has long since forgotten trying to take things nice and easy, even if Dimitri is injured at the moment. Dimitri huffs loudly, muttering Felix’s name against his skin like a mantra, hands leaving his thighs and roaming across the expanse of Felix’s body.

“Dimitri,” Felix pants, his own eyes fluttering. A broken moan leaves him as Dimitri thrusts up against his prostate, the action making Felix shudder with glee. “ _Dimitri_.” Felix moans his name like a prayer, his hands winding up and tangling in the blonde strands once again.

The prince doesn’t need anything else to be said. He grips onto Felix’s body and _thrusts_ , hard and fast, making sure thrust against Felix’s prostate nearly every time. They’re both close and Felix can feel it, especially in the way Dimitri continues to mark his body. Dimitri’s mouth is occupied with Felix’s nipples, sucking and biting around the areas. Felix drops his head against Dimitri’s shoulder, panting loud as he drops one hand between them, starting to stroke at his own weeping, forgotten cock.

It doesn’t take long for both of them to break, for the pleasure to become overwhelming and overflowing, their bodies working together to achieve their climax. Dimitri comes first, hips stuttering with a loud, whining moan of Felix’s name as he shudders, his eye finally falling closed. Felix breaks next, rocking his hips into Dimitri’s as he helps him ride out his orgasm, before succumbing to his own. He cums into his hand, between their stomachs, wanton moan of Dimitri’s name falling from his lips.

Felix cups the back of Dimitri’s head with his hands and pulls him in, kissing him, open-mouthed and passionate. They stay like that for the better part of their post-sex bliss, letting their breathing and bodies come down from their highs. Felix blinks as he pulls away, watching as Dimitri allows himself to lay back against the bed once more.

The swordsman reaches out and runs his hand against Dimitri’s bandaged chest, the prince paying no mind to the gesture. Felix smiles to himself, the faintest of ones, as he closes his eyes, feeling Dimitri’s heartbeat beneath his fingers.


End file.
